Vic and Matt Omnibus

Chapter 15

Tripod Position

Just inside the door to the apartment he shared with his lover Matt diLorenzo, Vic Braunson kicked off his heavy work shoes and unbuttoned his shirt as he headed down the hall to the bathroom. When he shrugged out of the sweaty material and dropped it to the floor, he felt the long, hot hours he’d spent at work driving the City bus fall away from him with the shirt. Unbuckling his belt, he pulled it free from his work pants and unbuttoned his fly, as well. Then he placed a hand against the bathroom door and eased it open. “Matty?”

“Hey, sexy.” A splash of water accompanied his lover’s greeting.

Matt lay in the bathtub, hidden beneath murky water glazed with a thin scrim of soap. A cache of bubbles dried amid his thick, black curls, and his face glistened wetly. His eyelashes were clumped together into dark spikes that made his eyes look wide and alluring. As Vic entered the bathroom, Matt sat up, exposing his bare back and the knobby nubs of his spine that trailed down to disappear into the water.

Perching on the edge of the tub, Vic dipped his hand into the water to find Matt’s knee. He gave it a loving squeeze as he leaned down to claim a kiss. “Looks like my birthday came early this year,” he joked. Beneath the water, his hand slid up Matt’s leg, his fingers tickling along the underside of his lover’s d**k. “What a delightful present.”

With an embarrassed grin, Matt rolled his eyes. “Vic, please. You get this every night.”

That earned Matt another kiss. “Lucky me.”

Matt eased back, stretching out within the confines of the tub. For a brief moment, Vic found his hand caught between Matt’s legs as his lover clenched his thighs together, then Matt relaxed. Trailing his hand along his lover’s body, Vic touched Matt’s knee again, slipped his fingers under it, and raised the leg from the bathwater. His hand continued down Matt’s calf, around his ankle, until his foot breeched the soapy film. Water trickled down Matt’s leg. With a laugh, he wiggled his toes as if waving to Vic. “So that’s what you’re after. I should’ve known. Here I am, naked and wet, and all you want to do is play with my feet.”

Through the psychic bond they shared that linked their minds together, Vic replied, ::I love your feet.::

His lover’s reply echoed in Vic’s thoughts. ::I love you.::

Vic raised Matt’s leg higher, bending the knee, and pressed his mouth against the ball of Matt’s foot. The bottoms of his toes were wrinkled from the water and Vic rubbed at them, trying to smooth them out. His thumb traced small circles into the arch of Matt’s foot, massaging it. Then Vic opened his mouth and gently nipped at the fleshy pad beneath Matt’s toes.

The foot flexed in his strong grip, toes splaying apart, as Matt slid down into the tub. His shoulders disappeared beneath the bath water, which rose to lap at his chin. “Hmm,” he moaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t stop.”

Vic blew on Matt’s foot, cooling it. Through the mental connection uniting them, he felt Matt’s delight at his touch, the shivers racing up his spine when Vic caressed the sole of his foot, the warmth flooding him when Vic took each toe into his mouth, one by one, to suckle on it. Matt was fastidious about his large feet, mostly because he knew Vic loved to love them. He had weekly pedicures, and carefully massaged lotion into his skin each night before they went to bed. Vic realized the attention and care Matt showed his feet were just one of the ways he let Vic know how much he loved him. “What’d I tell you?” Vic sighed, licking Matt’s pinky toe. “Happy birthday to me.”

“No, seriously.” Matt wiggled his toes to get Vic’s attention. “Your birthday’s what, in two weeks? What do you want?”

Placing Matt’s foot flat against his chest, Vic reached beneath the water again and grinned as he encircled Matt’s d**k with his fist. “I’ve got it all right here.”

Matt nudged Vic with his foot. “For a big, scary motherfucker, you’re honestly the cheesiest guy I know.”

The grin dissolved, replaced by Vic’s signature scowl. But the glower he leveled at Matt only made his lover laugh out loud. “You don’t scare me,” Matt said. “You should write Hallmark cards for bikers. ‘Happy f*****g birthday, you bastard.’ Speaking of…”

He trailed off, and Vic felt Matt’s presence blossom inside him. The connection that linked them stemmed from the powers Matt conveyed to Vic during s*x, and Vic for one wouldn’t lose that part of their relationship for the world. Despite Matt’s harsh language, Vic knew his lover was only teasing—if he needed any reassurance, he found it in the love that filled his mind whenever Matt’s thoughts touched his. And when his lover projected himself into Vic, as he did now, the sheer depth of Matt’s feelings staggered him. He didn’t deserve the man, he knew, but he’d never, ever give Matt up without a fight.

As they sat there, Matt in the tub and Vic on its edge, one hand stroking Matt’s leg where it rose from the water, Vic felt his lover surge into his mind. He closed his eyes and Matt was there behind them, nude, water dripping from him as if he’d just climbed out of the tub. ::What are you doing?:: Vic asked, bemused. His gaze was riveted to the thick patch of curls at Matt’s crotch, and the ruddy length hidden within.

Distracted, Matt told him, ::Looking for something…::

Suddenly Vic’s mind filled with memories, images of himself in times and places he thought he’d forgot. Matt riffled through them, searching for…for what?

::A birthday gift,:: Matt said. Vic came up behind his lover and wrapped his arms around Matt’s damp, slim waist. ::Something fun. Something different. Hold up.::

Vic caught a glimpse of himself in ass-less, black leather chaps, and groaned. ::Matty, no.::

The memory was an old one—Vic in a leather club he used to frequent years before he met his lover. With a sly smile, Matt glanced over his shoulder. ::I didn’t know you were into this scene.::

::It was so long ago,:: Vic said, dismissive. ::We’re not going.::

::Why not?::

Matt held the memory up like a photograph, examining it. With his tattoos and multiple piercings, Vic had looked wicked in the chaps and the thin straps of a black leather harness. The memory stirred something deep within Vic, awakening his libido. His groin trilled with unspent s****l energy, humming for release. Leather turned him on, no doubt. But a club? In public?

Apparently Matt was equally aroused. ::Let’s do that.:: He turned in Vic’s embrace and smiled at the frown on his lover’s face. ::For your birthday, how about it? We’ll both get dressed up and go out to some leather club. What do you say?::

Vic’s frown deepened. A bar meant other people, scantily clad twinks and tough leather daddies and who knew what else. Vic wasn’t sure he was ready to hit that scene all over again. What if Matt saw someone else he liked better? Someone handsomer, stronger? Someone—

Matt picked up that worrying thought and laughed. ::Yeah, right.:: He planted a quick kiss on Vic’s nose as if staking claim. ::No one holds a candle to you, Vic, and you know it. I love you. I want you, only you. And I want to make you happy.::

Shaking his head, Vic opened his eyes. From the bathtub, Matt stared at him, his own gaze shiny and lustful. Aloud, Vic asked, “Why bother going to the club if you’re not looking for s*x?”

“Who says there won’t be s*x?” Matt countered. Extracting his foot from Vic’s grip, he slid it down into his lover’s lap to prod at the bulge at the front of Vic’s work pants. “When I see you in leather? I’m going to be so hot for you, I’ll bust a nut, I swear it. I’ll f**k you in the car, in the bathroom, even on the bar if I can, you know? God, what a turn on. I never knew you were into this.”

Vic caught the heel grinding into his crotch. “It was so long ago.”

But Matt sat up, pulling his leg back into the tub, and leaned forward, lips puckered. “Kiss me,” he demanded.

Vic obliged.

Before he could sit back, Matt grabbed the front of his undershirt in one wet hand. “It still turns you on, right?” This close, Vic could count every eyelash clustered together, and Matt’s gaze flickered as he studied Vic’s face. “So let’s do this, one time, just for kicks. What do you say?”

Matt let him think about it, but he kept his hand on Vic’s shirt, holding him close, and a tiny voice inside Vic’s mind pleaded, ::Please? For me?::

Well, s**t. If Matt wanted to go clubbing, then Vic would want it, too. His frown smoothed out, a slow smile taking its place. When he looked at Matt, his eyes shone with a promise that ignited his lover’s sexy grin. “Let’s do it.”

* * * *

Vic’s birthday was at the end of August, and though he didn’t say anything about growing another year older, Matt sensed his discomfort as the day approached. More than once, Matt pointed out, “You’re only as old as you feel.”

With a grunt, Vic dismissed that. “Some mornings I feel ancient.”

“Well,” Matt replied, choosing his words carefully, “you’re not exactly what I’d call a morning person, Vic.”

That was an understatement.

Almost a full two years older than Matt himself, Vic had a fine physique, healthier than most men their age. Hell, few guys in their twenties had anything on him—Matt knew, he’d been looking a long time before he found Vic. Even without Matt’s semen giving him a bevy of super powers, Vic was built. He exercised religiously, fitting in trips to the gym around his hectic work schedule, honing his body in the weight room. His arms and legs were as thick as tree trunks, his chest firm and ripped, and his stocky abdomen sported legendary six-pack abs any man would kill to have. His tattooed skin stretched taut over solid muscle. Even without his powers, he was strong. Every inch of him was chiseled to perfection, from his tight ass to his thick neck, his sturdy hands to the heavy length of his large c**k.

Nearing forty or not, in Matt’s mind, his lover was f*****g hot.

Strength was a huge turn-on for Matt; the fact that a muscular man like Vic would willingly submit to him was a heady rush that kept him in a constant state of arousal whenever they were together. And when they were apart, Matt couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to his lover. They coupled like horny teenagers—s*x was an almost daily occurrence, and Matt had no intention of slowing down in the years to come. As much as he hated the powers he inadvertently gave Vic when they made love, he couldn’t keep himself off the man.

* * * *

In the bottom of Vic’s closet hid a box of black leather clothing he’d never bothered to throw away, so Vic dug out the box and let Matt go through it. Inside he found a vest with snaps down the front and a pair of tight shorts with a breakaway crotch…now those had potential.

There were also boots—shiny and black, the kind a biker might wear. Some leather pants, well-worn and soft to the touch. Mesh shirts with leather trim, arm bands, collars, and belts coiled tightly together. There were thongs, some with silver accents, some with chains, most just small swatches of soft leather that didn’t look as if they could cradle a c**k the size of Vic’s. Whatever came of their night out, Matt would make sure a few of those found their way into his lover’s underwear drawer, for those times when they needed something a little sexier than boxer briefs to get things rolling.

On the night of his birthday, Vic switched shifts with a coworker to have the day off. Matt cooked a succulent dinner of steak and shrimp, two of Vic’s favorite foods, and they shared a bottle of wine to chase down the meal. By the time they headed to the bedroom to dress for the club, Matt had begun to laugh a bit too loudly—the wine was getting to him, and suddenly he found every little thing funny. He couldn’t hold his liquor, a fact Vic thought delightfully cute. Stripping out of his T-shirt, Vic asked, “Are you drunk already?”

“Already?” Matt echoed. He stepped up behind Vic and reached around his lover’s girth to rub the smooth skin of his belly. Vic’s arms were raised above his head, caught in his shirt, and he felt damp lips press between his shoulder blades as Matt kissed him. “This ain’t nothing, babe. Just you wait.”

The leather clothing lay out on the bed. Once Matt released him, Vic stepped into the leather pants, savoring the feel of the fabric against his bare skin. He didn’t bother with underwear—the soft leather slid easily into place, cradling his buttocks, molding to his balls, caressing his d**k. As he snapped closed the fly, his c**k began to stiffen beneath his fingers, the leather straining against him. He loved the way it cupped his length, the skin supple on his own. Each move he made rubbed his d**k along the suede-like interior of the pants, turning him on, and the animalistic smell of treated leather rose around him like heady cologne. By the time he had selected a mesh tank top to wear, his whole groin throbbed with a sweet ache.

Matt chose the boyshorts. The polished leather gleamed like latex as it curved over Matt’s ass, and the breakaway crotch bulged against his c**k and balls. He opted for the vest, and the hemmed darts framed his package nicely. Catching Matt’s hand in his own, Vic reeled in his lover for a smoldering kiss. ::Love you.::

“Happy birthday, big boy,” Matt sighed. The alcohol on his breath stirred Vic’s blood, and when he dipped into Matt’s mind, he felt the wine buzzing like an undercurrent through his lover’s thoughts. “Let’s go show you off. What’s the name of this place again?”

Vic laughed. “You don’t remember?”

“Something ‘Cover,’ isn’t it?” Matt spread Vic’s arms apart to step into their span and press his body against his lover’s. Through the mesh of Vic’s shirt, Matt picked at his lover’s pert n*****s, his brow creased in thought. “Why am I thinking sewer? That can’t be right.”

Given his lover’s weakness against booze, Vic wasn’t surprised Matt didn’t remember. “It’s called the Manhole.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “That sounds promising in so many ways.”

* * * *

The Manhole was a converted warehouse in Richmond’s downtown canal area, where parking meant finding a spot on a side street and hoofing it to the club. Despite the humid evening, Matt felt underdressed in the shorts and vest, and he avoided looking at the people who stared as they passed. Vic kept a horrible scowl on his face to deter any comments, and one hand rested on the small of Matt’s back, a comforting gesture that let him know his lover was near. As a young couple crossed the street to avoid them, Matt spoke into his lover’s mind. ::They must think we’re a couple of freaks.::

Vic’s gaze flickered to the couple, a neatly dressed man and his wife, who pushed a baby carriage. ::She thinks so, but he’s got a hard-on:: he told Matt, reading their minds. Then he gave a surprised grunt. ::For me.::

Matt elbowed his lover playfully. ::Told you you looked hot.::

Outside the club, a string of motorcycles lined the curb, each chopper more polished than the last. Men gathered together in small groups of three or four, dressed in leather biker jackets and chaps. Some wore jeans beneath the leather; others wore nothing more than a thong, their pale buttocks gleaming in the streetlight. Chains dangled from pockets, from belt loops, from earrings and bracelets and hats. As Matt and Vic approached, many of the fellows cast an appreciative eye over Matt’s muscular legs, then noticed Vic and nodded his way. ::I feel like a piece of meat,:: Matt complained.

::You’re the sexiest guy out here,:: Vic answered. Scowl in place, he kept his hand fisted in Matt’s vest. Matt suspected the other men noticed that touch and stayed away. ::This was your idea.::

Inside the club, the place was packed. The moment he entered, Matt was hit with the overpowering smell of men—sweat and musk and grime mingled with fragrant aftershave, cigar smoke, and spilled alcohol to assault his nostrils. The walls pounded beneath a steady hard rock beat, and Matt found his body begin to sway on its own accord, moving in time with the music. The Manhole definitely lived up to its name…men of all ages, all sizes, rubbed against each other in the semi-darkness of the club, humping, touching, kissing, with no regard for who might be watching.

As Matt made his way to the bar, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and flyaway hair stepped in front of him. He flashed Matt an ingratiating grin. “Hey there, soldier,” he said, shouting to be heard over the music. “A guy like you makes me want to stand up and salute, if you know what I mean. Your barracks or mine?”

He winked and Matt suppressed a shudder. What the hell kind of pick-up line was that? And he’d thought Vic was bad…

Behind him, Matt felt Vic’s grip tighten in his vest. ::Oh no, he didn’t.::

Matt shook his head, apologetic. “I’m sorry, I’m with someone.”

“You can be with me,” the man said, his grin cranking up a notch.

“No,” Matt insisted, “really. I’m cool.”

A hand reached out; one finger trailed down Matt’s arm. Suddenly Matt found himself pulled out of the way as Vic pushed between them, snarling in anger. His jaw clenched, his muscles bulged, and now Matt was the one grabbing fists full of Vic’s shirt to hold him at bay. With a mental shout, Vic drove his words directly into the stranger’s head. ::He said he’s with ME.::

The man raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Easy, fella,” he said, backing away into the crowd. He looked at Matt over Vic’s shoulder. “Really, man. I didn’t know. Sorry about that. Sorry.”

Matt smoothed a hand up Vic’s bicep. The muscles bunched beneath his fingers excited him, and he leaned against Vic’s back, grinding his crotch into Vic’s buttocks so his lover would feel Matt’s arousal. ::My hero,:: he teased, biting at Vic’s shoulder with a kittenish growl. ::Buy me a drink, sexy.::

Though the bar was busy, Vic raked the patrons with a deadly gaze and scared two of them off their barstools. Matt waited for Vic to sit down before he took the stool beside him, then leaned against his lover, one arm in Vic’s lap, chin on his shoulder. As they waited for their drinks, Matt blew into Vic’s ear and laughed. “I want to dance,” he shouted over the music.

“You wanted a drink,” Vic reminded him.

“And a dance.” When the bartender set two plastic cups of beer in front of them, Matt slid off the barstool, grabbed a beer in one hand and hooked Vic’s elbow with the other. “Come on. Dance with me.”

Vic rolled his eyes and groaned, a sound Matt felt more than heard. It tickled his insides and piqued his libido. “Come on,” he cajoled. As Vic stood, Matt reached past him for the second beer. “It’ll be fun.”

“You keep saying that,” Vic groused. “But so far all I’m doing is fending off guys interested in you.”

Matt turned. With a beer in each hand, he couldn’t touch Vic, so he leaned his whole body against his lover’s. Vic’s arms came up around his waist and Matt kissed the fine hairs of his lover’s goatee. The next kiss was a little higher up on his jaw, the third just in front of his ear. Then Matt sighed into him, “Don’t you know by now how much it turns me on to see you get all bad-ass on my behalf?”

He rubbed his hips into Vic’s, pushing the erection in his boyshorts against the hard c**k in Vic’s leather pants. Vic’s reply was a guttural moan that did terrible things to Matt’s already fluttering stomach. “Let me down these beers,” he said, “get my groove on a bit, and then I’m gonna want to f**k you so hard, you’ll taste my d**k in the back of your throat.”

He felt a flush of lust rip through him. “Jesus,” Vic muttered. “I didn’t know you could talk that dirty.”

Stepping back, Matt flashed Vic a sweet smile. “What’d you think? Too much?”

“Oh no,” Vic assured him. He turned Matt around to point him in the direction of the dance floor. ::There was no part of that sentence I didn’t like.::

* * * *

Music thudded through Vic, more vibration than sound. His senses were reeling—smoke clogged the club, stinging his eyes and throat, and the sharp tang of jism and sweat made his stomach churn. Out on the dance floor, with men grinding up against him, elbows jostling, feet stepping on his, Vic remembered just why he’d stopped clubbing in the first place. This was no longer his scene. Add in the telepathic abilities Matt gave him, and he felt assaulted both physically and mentally. It took all his concentration to keep others’ erotic thoughts from trickling into his; every now and then when he relaxed, waves of lust crashed over him. By the time Matt found a spot he liked near the club’s speakers, Vic clenched his lover’s vest, his whole body shuddering with a desire only partially fueled by Matt himself.

His hands dropped to Matt’s hips to position his lover in front of him. With a cup of beer in either hand, Matt began to sway to the hard rock music pounding from the speakers. Vic backed up against the low dividing wall that separated the dance floor from a few tables where patrons groped and fondled each other. Matt backed up with him until his buttocks writhed against Vic’s crotch. Shards of pleasure shot through Vic each time Matt rubbed into him. He stood still, letting Matt dance, a glare in his eyes that deterred anyone from approaching them.

Matt sipped beer from both cups indiscriminately. The more he drank, the harder he ground back on Vic. Soon the cups were dropped to the floor, forgotten, and his lover lay against Vic’s chest, his head on Vic’s shoulder, his whole body gyrating with sensual movements. In the confines of his pants, Vic’s c**k was rigid, aching for release, and he considered easing down the zipper a little, just to rub his naked length against the back of Matt’s shorts. Who would see him? The club was dark and Matt danced so close, no one would know. The thought turned Vic on something fierce, and lust spiked through his d**k into his lower belly. Placing his mouth against Matt’s ear, Vic hugged Matt to him. “God, I want you so bad right now.”

::Well,:: Matt replied, using their psychic bond to be heard over the music, ::baby gets what he wants on his birthday.:: He turned in Vic’s embrace, hands cradling Vic’s face as he covered Vic’s mouth with his own.

The taste of alcohol filled Vic, inebriating. His fingers slid beneath the hem of Matt’s leather vest and tickled up over his spine as their kiss deepened. Matt’s tongue was demanding, insistent, and he pressed Vic back against the wall, one bare leg smoothing up Vic’s thigh in his eagerness for his lover. A drunken litany trailed through his mind, ::Yes, God, Vic, yes, please,:: chasing away Vic’s own thoughts and leaving nothing but hunger and desire in their wake.

A nearby laugh brought Vic back to reality. They weren’t alone, and the last thing Vic wanted was to put on a show. Still, it took every ounce of super strength he had to push Matt away. ::Come on,:: he thought, grabbing his lover by the wrist. He led the way off the dance floor, the crowd parting before him.

Matt stumbled to keep up. ::Vic, where—::

::Someplace a little more private,:: Vic said. ::Don’t worry, we’ll pick up right where we left off. I promise.::

The restrooms were near the back of the club. There were two of them—in a regular establishment, they would be marked for either gender, but here at the Manhole, both were for men only. A narrow hall led to the bathrooms, lined with couples in various stages of undress, bodies entwined, lips locked, hands thrust beneath clothing. These men had been headed for privacy only to be waylaid by the need to get off before they managed to snag one of the rooms.

The restroom doors locked, a fact most customers forgot. Vic opened the first door and found one man seated on the closed toilet lid, his d**k thrust into the willing mouth of a man on his knees before him. A third man stood, pants down, as the seated man sucked his d**k, too.

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Vic.

“Sorry,” he muttered, slamming the door shut.

Matt snickered behind him. “What was that?” he asked as he reached for the door knob. “I didn’t get to see…”

“Nothing.”

Vic caught Matt’s hand before he could open the door. Holding both wrists now, Vic led his lover to the next room. This was his last chance—if it were occupied, they’d have to head back to the car and Vic was too wound up to make it that far. Maybe an alley out back, then? He didn’t want anyone watching them make love.

Extending his mind, he dipped into the room behind the second closed door and brushed over the consciousness of a single man. He squatted on the floor beside the toilet, peering through a hole in the wall that gave him an eyeful of the threesome going at it in the next room. His leather pants were unzipped as the hand wrapped around his c**k pumped him toward release.

With a low grunt, Vic kicked open the door. The man scrambled away from the wall, tugging up his zipper, his eyes wide with surprise that quickly turned to pain when he snagged his erection in the metal teeth. “f**k!”

“Out,” Vic told him.

The man stared as if he had never heard the word before.

Vic added a mental shout. ::Get the hell OUT.::

Still yanking on his zipper, the man hurried past them. Vic stood aside, then ushered Matt into the bathroom. Once the door was shut and locked, he unzipped his pants. Without ceremony, he pushed them to the floor.

He felt a cool hand curve around one meaty buttock as Matt cupped his ass. “We could’ve just gone back to the car.”

“I want you,” Vic told him. “Here, now. I hate waiting.”

Turning his back to his lover, he raised one foot to step out of the pants puddled on the floor and set his heavy boot on the closed lid of the toilet. His ass spread invitingly. Through their mental link, Vic felt Matt’s arousal mirror his own. Vic prompted, “Well? Still want to go to the car?”

“There’s lube in the glove compartment,” Matt pointed out, but he dropped to his knees behind Vic. The snaps on the breakaway crotch of his shorts pinged open under the stress of squatting with a hard-on, but he didn’t tend to his own shaft; instead, his hands cradled Vic’s buttocks, spreading them wide, as his tongue trailed between the fleshy mounds.

When the wet muscle licked over Vic’s quivering hole, his c**k stood beneath the attention. It brushed against the edge of the sink, and the cold porcelain only excited him further, stiffening his d**k. With the flat of his hand, Vic pressed his length along the cool, smooth surface, then moved his hips to thrust between the sink and his palm. The friction was maddening, and his pulse beat against his fingers like the wings of a captured bird trying to escape. Vic thrust again, harder, and gripped the sink with his hand as he forced his hard d**k into the tight space. “Matty,” he gasped.

His lover’s response was a ticklish lick below his anus. Saliva slicked the tender skin behind his balls, and strong fingers kneaded his buttocks, pushing them up and apart, opening him to Matt. Firm lips kissed hidden flesh, teeth nipped playfully into his secret places, each touch cranking up Vic’s blood until it seemed to race through his veins, flooding his senses and dizzying his mind. In the dingy mirror above the sink, he watched his own reflection savor his lover’s ministrations—slack cheeks, hooded eyes, mouth open in pure ecstasy. “Yes,” he growled, f*****g between his hand and the sink, then rocking back into Matt’s eager tongue. “Yes, God, yes, yes.”

Nibbling at a sensitive spot between Vic’s ass cheeks, Matt sent a sobering thought into his lover’s mind. ::We still need lube. I’m telling you, there’s some in the car…::

Vic ran his hand across the back of the sink, knocking two half-empty bottles of hand soap onto the floor. “There,” he grunted. “Use that.”

“It’ll sting,” Matt said, dubious.

“Matty,” Vic growled. His voice deepened, his throat thick with lust, and the sink’s finish cracked beneath sudden pressure as he gripped it in frustration. ::f**k me already, will you?::

His cry ricocheted out into the club, a mental barrage so full of desire and want, other patrons swooned and trembled beneath it. In the bathroom beside theirs, a s****l frenzy broke out. Someone shouted, “f**k me!” Someone else bumped up against the wall between the rooms, his loud moans easily broadcast through the thin plaster, ardent cries punctuated with steady rhythmic knocking as the threesome meshed into one orgasmic organism.

Similar sounds erupted from the hall. “Look what you’ve started,” Matt said with a laugh as he retrieved one of the bottles of hand soap from beneath the sink. “This whole place is going to be one huge orgy in a few minutes.”

“And I’m the only one not getting any,” Vic grumbled.

That earned him a playful smack on the ass. “Yours is coming, big boy.” With a dollop of soap in his palm, Matt reached around Vic and stuck his hand in the sink. “Get me wet, will you?”

Vic didn’t have to be asked twice. He turned on the water, dousing Matt’s hand, and turned it off again when his lover pulled back. He heard the squelch as Matt rubbed his hands together, and felt passion surge between them when those hands clasped around Matt’s thick c**k. Vic felt that hand as if it were on his own d**k, pinching and squeezing, massaging his length, rubbing the soap into his skin… ::Some time tonight,:: he prodded his lover.

“You’re so demanding today,” Matt teased. His slick hands slipped down the crack of his ass, lifting his buttocks again, parting them as the tip of his d**k bumped into the tight hole at Vic’s center.

“It’s my birthday,” Vic reminded him. “I thought today I could have anything I wanted. All I want is—”

With a hard push, Matt thrust into him and Vic’s words disappeared in a breathy gasp. It did sting, but the stretch and burn only enhanced the moment, grounding Vic in the present, here, now, in this room with this man shoving into him, these hands on his waist angling for his d**k, these lips on his shoulders and scalp and neck. Love filled him, the emotion so intricately meshed with Matt in Vic’s mind that each thrust, each kiss, each touch left behind trails of desire flickering over Vic’s skin, burning in his veins.

::You,:: he called out with every fiber of his being. ::Matty, yes, you, YOU.::

Like two lifelong partners in a familiar dance, they fell into sync, Matt burrowing deep into Vic and staying there, his hips grinding his c**k farther into his lover. The tiniest movement sent shivers of delight through Vic, spiraling from his prostate up through his groin, into his chest, his head, his heart. Matt massaged Vic’s d**k in one hand, his fingers covering Vic’s own as they worked the length together, and the other rubbed over ticklish skin behind the knee of the leg propped on the toilet seat. The soap tingled Vic’s ass, adding a delicious zing to their lovemaking, a dimension of added sensation that sparked the flame of his desire and fanned it into a pyre that threatened to consume them both.

* * * *

“In case you’re wondering,” Matt yelled out over the din of the crowd, his hand in Vic’s as he followed his lover to the club’s exit, “that was the Tripod Position. Your leg was up, see?”

Vic turned to shout over his shoulder, “How do you remember these things?” Matt’s hand tightened in his, and he felt more than saw his lover’s pleased grin. Switching to mental communication to be heard better, Vic added, ::What’d you do, memorize the whole damn book?::

::Just some of it,:: Matt conceded. ::I never really thought we’d do that position because it can be pretty acrobatic. I mean, your leg was up off the floor the whole time.::

With a grunt, Vic admitted, ::On the toilet lid. That’s not exactly Olympic gold material.::

When they finally made it outside, they found the humidity of August had thinned out, and a very faint breeze cooled the sweat drying on their exposed skin. The bikers had migrated inside, leaving the street deserted. Soft moans came from the alley beside the club—a quick mental scan showed Vic two patrons rubbing against each other in the dark. Nothing to worry about. He wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulders and pulled his lover against him; Matt rested his head on Vic’s chest, his arms easing around Vic’s waist to hold him close. “Did you have fun?”

Vic kissed his lover’s temple. “Thanks.”

They started down the street but didn’t get very far—a few steps from the corner, Vic’s hand strayed to the front pocket of his leather pants and he drew up short. Matt walked out of his embrace before he noticed Vic had stopped. “What is it?”

“Damn it,” Vic growled. “My keys are gone.”

“I don’t think I have them.” Still a little drunk, Matt patted the front of his boyshorts, even though he had no pockets.

Vic watched, bemused, and saw that the breakaway crotch had been snapped back into place upside down. The material covered Matt’s genitals, but only just. “You put that on wrong,” Vic pointed out.

Raising his arms, Matt asked sweetly, “Fix it for me?”

With a look down the sidewalk to ensure no one watched them, Vic unsnapped the front of the boyshorts, turned the small pouch around, and popped it back into place. His hands slid into the front of the shorts to press the snaps together, his fingers brushing through kinked hair, and he promised his lover, “It’s coming off again the moment we get back home, anyway.”

“If we get back,” Matt said. “Where are the keys?”

Vic closed his eyes and let his mind expand. It brushed over the men fooling around in the alley…one of them was watching, the bastard, and he’d gotten quite an eyeful when Vic had pulled open the front of Matt’s shorts. He and his friend now hid at the edge of the building, waiting to see what might happen next. Ignoring them, Vic dipped back inside the club and mentally retraced his steps. From the bar to the dance floor to the bathroom…

His keys winked on the floor beneath the sink, where they had fallen when he pulled down his pants. “They’re still inside.”

Taking his lover’s hand, he led the way back to the club. But when he reached the door, Matt pulled out of his grip. “I’ll stay here.” At Vic’s quizzical look, he gave him a wide-eyed grin. “It’s hot and noisy in there, Vic, and my stomach’s a little upset. I’ll wait right here, I promise.”

Vic glanced past him at the alley, but sensed the men there had resumed their frottage session. “You sure?”

“Where else would I go?” Matt asked with a laugh. “I can’t get in the car without the keys.”

The fact of the matter was, neither could Vic. Giving his lover one last kiss, he murmured, “Be right back.” Then he ducked into the club, leaving Matt to wait outside.

* * * *

Matt leaned against the front of the club, the bricks that held him upright still warm from the late afternoon sun. His head felt heavy and clouded, and every few moments, he would start to doze. It grew harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and each blink threatened to drop him into a deep sleep. When his chin finally touched his chest, Matt felt a warm hand on his upper arm and he melted at the touch. ::Vic…::

No response.

With a frown Matt jerked awake, only to find a stranger standing before him. It was the same guy from earlier in the evening, the one who’d hit on him before Vic intervened. Here in the relative quiet outside the club, the man’s skin gleamed with sweat. His leather shirt was unbuttoned to his navel, and the front of his jeans were unzipped, allowing an erection to bulge through the open fly. His hand stroked Matt’s arm gently.

Matt raised his gaze to meet the man’s. He didn’t quite care for the way those shiny, dilated pupils stared at him. Possessive. Demanding. Needy. Clearing his throat, Matt sidestepped out of reach and said, “My friend’s coming right back.”

“Can’t we have a little fun until he does?” The man placed his hand on the wall by Matt; the other drifted to Matt’s chest, where it picked at the snaps on the front of his leather vest.

Matt slapped that hand away. Another step brought him to the edge of the building—the dark alley yawned behind him. When Matt glanced into its maw, another man appeared from the shadows, hemming him in. This one had the same wild eyes, the same smarmy grin. He touched Matt’s ass, hands curving over Matt’s buttocks without hesitation. “Hey,” he purred. “Come back here a minute.”

“No.”

Too late, Matt realized he was trapped. The first man closed the distance between them, backing Matt up against his friend, whose hands roamed over Matt’s hips to poke into the breakaway crotch of his shorts. A couple snaps broke free, granting him access.

“No,” Matt said again, louder this time, but the arms around him tightened, pulling him back against the hard body behind him and the first man stepped into the alley, blocking out the light.

Matt squirmed, trying to hold one man at bay while struggling against the other’s hold on his waist. But strong hands caught his wrists, heavy boots kicked his feet out of the way, and Matt found himself pinned between the two men. The one in front of him leaned down, pushing his hips into Matt’s, the weight of his chest crushing Matt’s own. This close his breath was hot and sour, and when he licked out, his tongue seemed to burn Matt’s skin. “Don’t fight so much,” he whispered. “You might even like it.”

Matt shook his head. “No.” His voice grew louder each time he said it. “No. No.” He pushed and fought, but he was tired and drunk. No match for the men who held him. As they shuffled him into the darkness of the alley, Matt cried out in mental anguish, ::Vic!::

His lover’s presence filled him instantly. ::Matty? What—::

Then indignation rose in him, spilling over from Vic’s emotions. Matt felt his lover’s strength flare through his own body, a brief flash like lightning that cast off the shadows of drink still clinging to Matt’s muddled mind. The power was gone before he could use it, but he didn’t need it. Vic was on the way.

Even over the sounds of their scuffle, he heard the front door of the club being kicked open. Taking a deep breath, Matt called out, “Here, Vic! I’m over here! In the alley—”

A firm hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him.

It didn’t matter. Matt felt Vic in him, felt the anger swirl through them both, and his heart almost burst with love when Vic stepped into the alley. His bulk looked intimidating, back-lit by the streetlight. When he spoke, his voice rang out like judgment. “Let him go.”

The man in front turned, blocking Vic from Matt and his friend. “Who invited you?” he asked with a laugh. “Your boy’s playing with us now.”

Vic made a hostile noise of disgust in the back of his throat. It sounded like a wild animal snarling in the darkness, and only enhanced the danger underlying his words. “I’m going to break one of your bones for every place on his body you touched.”

When he stepped forward, the two men shuffled back, Matt between them. The hand on his mouth had slipped; Matt bit at it, then cried out, “Vic!” The hands holding him tightened. Frustrated, he tried to wrest free and couldn’t. Vic was right there. “Just kill them already, will you?”

That earned him a punch in the kidneys. “Shut up,” the man behind him growled.

“Vic—”

The man in front of Matt lunged, throwing an unexpected punch. It caught Vic in the jaw and he staggered back, placing one hand on the side of the building for balance. A sudden sound filled the night, a rippling, tearing noise that seemed to swell in the alley and press against Matt’s eardrums until he thought they’d burst. “Vic!” he shouted, covering his ears with his hands. His lover’s confusion swirled through him. ::What’s happening?::

Despite the situation, Vic sounded mildly amused, as if he’d had everything under control until…until this. Whatever this was. ::Something new, I guess.::

Matt glanced at his lover and his mouth fell open in shock. Where Vic touched the building with the palm of his hand, his skin had deepened, thickened, until it looked like the bricks had grown over his hand. No…they traveled up his arm like an encroaching rash, his skin hardening, reddening, turning into brick itself. As Matt watched in horror, the brick advanced over Vic’s shoulder, up his neck, over his face. It spread beneath the mesh top he wore to gird his chest. His tattoos looked like so much graffiti sprayed onto skin that had morphed into…into…

Brick.

Across his shoulders, down his other arm, to a fist that crackled when he clenched it. The man who had thrown the punch stared at that fist, eyes wide. With a laugh, he joked, “Whoa. What a bad time to trip out.”

The guy behind Matt gasped. “This ain’t no trip—I see it, too! Motherfucker’s a goddamn wall, man! A goddamn wall.”

His friend took a step back, one hand in front of him as if that alone could stop Vic. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Too late,” Vic snarled.

With a fist that literally was a ton of bricks, he hit the man in the chest, dropping him to the ground. He gasped as the breath whooshed from his body and moaned once when Vic kicked him aside.

The man holding Matt finally let go.

Vic didn’t let him get too far. The moment he lost touch of the building, his skin began to change back to its usual pale form. He brushed past Matt as he hurried after the other guy; Matt whirled to keep them in view and saw his lover stick out a hand to connect with a green dumpster farther up the alley. Instantly, Vic’s skin turned to paint-flecked steel. When the man he chased stopped and turned, brandishing a knife, the blade snapped in Vic’s metallic fist. So did the bones in the man’s hand. His scream of pain rose into the night.

God. Matt staggered on his feet as unspent adrenaline coursed through his system. His hands shook; he crossed his arms and clamped his hands beneath his elbows, holding them against his body to keep them from trembling. When he looked down, he saw the man at his feet, blood bubbling from his nose and mouth. Behind him, the scream cut off, the ensuing silence abrupt. What had he said? Just kill them already…

He hadn’t meant it literally. Vic wouldn’t do it, would he?

Would he?

To protect him, Matt thought maybe he would. “Vic.”

Strong hands touched his shoulders, then smoothed down his arms. He found himself being drawn into a loving embrace. ::I didn’t mean for this to happen,:: he said when he felt Vic kiss the nape of his neck. ::I was only kidding.::

Picking up on Matt’s fearful thoughts, Vic assured him, ::They aren’t dead.::

Matt closed his eyes and felt his lover guide his consciousness beyond the confines of his body. He touched on the two men’s minds—yes, still alive, and very much in pain. He felt a little better. No, a lot better. ::That should teach them the meaning of the word no,:: he thought as Vic’s presence enveloped his. Then, recalling how Vic had subdued them, Matt asked, ::So what’s this freaky new power you’ve got?::

Vic grunted. “I touch something, I turn into it. Look.”

Glancing down, Matt saw his lover’s hands on his own. They looked normal enough, flesh and bone. But as he watched, Vic smoothed his hands up over Matt’s chest and the skin blackened to match Matt’s leather vest.

“You probably should drive home,” Vic said softly. “If I touch the steering wheel, I’ll turn to plastic.”

Worried, Matt glanced over his shoulder at his lover. “Vic? I’m three sheets to the wind. How can I—”

::I’ll help,:: Vic assured him. ::You just sit behind the wheel and I’ll steer, what do you say?::

What could Matt say? He felt protected in these arms, loved by this man, and even the strange new ability of Vic’s couldn’t tamp down the desire rushing over him at the memory of his lover once again coming to his rescue. Then an amusing thought struck him. “If you touch the car window, will you turn to glass?”

He felt Vic shrug against him.

Matt turned in his lover’s embrace, a grin already tugging at his lips. “Let’s find out.”